


Rule Breaker

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-12
Updated: 2006-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Sometimes you just have to break the rules





	Rule Breaker

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: For [](http://tamlane.livejournal.com/profile)[**tamlane**](http://tamlane.livejournal.com/) and [](http://unperfectwolf.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://unperfectwolf.livejournal.com/)**unperfectwolf**  


* * *

There were several benefits to being a prefect. Not only did she have the use of the Prefects’ bath, which was certainly worth the patrols and responsibility alone, but Hermione also had the ability to be out past curfew and go basically anywhere in the castle under the guise of doing her prefect duties. She only took advantage of the latter when it was important, of course, as she didn’t like to lie and would only do so under extreme circumstances that required dishonesty.

This evening was one of those circumstances.

Professor Slughorn was a vile manipulative man who sought to further his own endeavors by riding on the robes of his more brilliant students, former and current, and represented many of the things she found morally reprehensible. He was also blind to Harry’s cheating (as she refused to believe using _that_ book was anything else), which infuriated her even more. However, he was lax with the wards on the Potions classroom and never remembered to lock the door to either of the potions cabinets. This one slip happened to redeem him, somewhat, in her eyes.

Professor Snape may not be the Potions professor anymore, but she knew he kept an eye on the cabinet in the hallway. Harry had seen him lurking inside the room several times this year already so she didn’t dare risk stealing, no _borrowing_ , supplies from there. That left the actual Potions class, which was actually far better for her uses, anyway. There were plenty of the ingredients she needed without making her procurement of certain items noticeable and she liked being able to study the various ingredients that might be useful in the future at her leisure.

Hermione liked to take her time when obtaining the necessary items for whatever potion she was trying. If she rushed, she risked getting the wrong amount, which just wouldn’t do at all. Tonight, she was acquiring the few items she needed to make a dream potion. She’d discovered it in one of the texts she’d been reading in the Restricted Section and found the idea intriguing. She almost felt guilty for wasting time and energy making something so very selfish when Harry was starting to act even more oddly and probably needed a relaxation potion, but she had finally decided that she deserved to be selfish just this once.

If the potion worked correctly, which it would, of course, she would have subconscious control of her dreams and be able to recall them when she woke. It was an interesting experiment as she rarely ever remembered her dreams and thought it would make things more peaceful for her if she could control the ones she did happen to have. She was a firm believer in controlling as much of her life as possible.

Of course, there were a few disclaimers for the potion that made her wonder if the control actually happened or if you’d just remember what you dreamed about. If it was the latter, she wasn’t nearly as excited about attempting the experiment. Her nights had been rather restless this term and she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know what sort of dreams had her waking various times throughtout the night feeling so odd.

The temptation to dream about something she actually wanted to dream about, however, was entirely too irresistible. One time would show her whether or not the potion was a success so it was all in the interest of science, after all, and certainly not her inclination to dream about something happy and possibly being loved. Of course it wasn’t.

After Hermione gathered the necessary ingredients from the potions cabinet, she got a cauldron from the spares and put it on to heat. She took off her robe, folding it meticulously before she placed it on the table behind hers, and loosened her tie so she could focus. She unrolled the parchment with the potion instructions and read it by candlelight, wondering if she could possibly light another candle without being detected. It would certainly make things easier to read.

“Why, Granger, I am shocked and appalled to see such an obvious disregard for authority and lack of attention to the rules from a _prefect_ ,” a low voice drawled from the shadows behind her.

Hermione instantly had her wand in hand and was ready to defend herself as she turned around. It was too dark to see who was there and the voice wasn’t recognizable though it did sound slightly familiar. “Who’s there?”

“Why? Will you report me?” the voice asked in a very smug tone that indicated the boy didn’t believe she’d do any such thing.

“You’re out after curfew and skulking in the shadows of a closed classroom,” she pointed out matter-of-factly.

“And you are stealing ingredients from your revered Potions professor and brewing some unknown potion. I do wonder who would be most likely to lose points, get detention, and possibly lose a certain ickle Prefect badge,” the voice mused in such a way that she knew her bluff wasn’t going to work.

“Fine,” she finally said with a sigh. “I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me.”

“Oh, Granger, you Gryffindors are so _innocent_ and _trusting_ that it would really amuse me if I didn’t find such behavior contemptuous,” the voice said in that same low, deep tone that she couldn’t place. “Do you really believe such an arrangement, one that does not benefit me at all, is one I would willingly make?”

“Of course it benefits you,” she snapped back, annoyed that whoever was lurking in the shadows was taunting her and not at all worried about being reported. “You don’t get caught and can continue doing whatever misdeeds you have planned while I’m unable to stop you. I’ll have you know, though, that I will risk getting caught if you’re doing anything that will endanger the students.”

“Such a brave and honorable little thing, aren’t you, Granger?” He was obviously amused and seemed unaffected by her threat. “I always knew you had fire in there somewhere. It’s a pity you rarely show it. You’re rather appealing when you’re angry; far more so than when you’re the ickle good girl who follows all the rules.”

Hermione glared at the shadows, knowing he must be making fun of her. She wanted to hex him but didn’t dare. She’d already be in a lot of trouble if it was discovered she was taking advantage of her position as a prefect to sneak into the Potions classroom and she couldn’t add hexing a fellow student to the list of infractions. Instead, she turned her back to the boy in the shadows and remained alert to defend herself if he suddenly attacked with anything but words.

“What are you making?” he asked curiously, his voice now coming from the shadows off to her side.

“Would you just go away?” she asked tightly, wishing she could place the voice so she could confront the prat. She refused to acknowledge that the voice was rather sexy when it wasn’t belittling her. Deep and low, slightly husky with a faint trace of an accent when certain words were spoken, and she couldn’t remember where she had heard it before.

“Why would I do that when I’m having such fun?” She knew he must be smirking. He just sounded like someone who was smirking, which was rather ridiculous but she didn’t care. “You should take your tie off. It’s going to get caught in the flame.”

“I know how to brew a potion, thank you very much,” she informed him sharply as she cut the diatro root and ignored him.

“You’ve got really great tits, Granger.”

Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, and she turned to glare at the shadows. “How dare you!”

“Very easily, actually,” he said casually. “I simply lean here against this table and let my gaze move over your chest. Have to keep myself occupied somehow, after all, since you’re not talking to me. I like the way your shirt clings to them, not deliberate like so many of the common slags at this school, but innocent in a way that temps me to muss you up a bit. I bet they’re firm and full, probably bounce when you’re not wearing that Muggle contraption. Why don’t you take off your shirt and let me see them bounce?”

“You are a disgusting, filthy---“ she tried to think of an appropriate term but was still reeling from the idea that he had actually looked at her breasts and realized they were there to think of anything too cutting, “arse!”

“My arse is actually quite nice,” he remarked. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Hmph!” She snorted and snarled at the figure in the shadows and turned back to her potion. She was self-conscious now and could almost feel his gaze on her breasts as surely as if he’d been touching them. Boys just did _not_ speak to her in such a way. He was practically flirting!

“You like me watching,” he observed with a husky laugh that made her think of sex and wicked things. “Your nipples are hard, pet. I think you do want to show me those gorgeous tits. C’mon, Granger. Be daring. No one will ever know. I’ll take a wizarding oath to never speak to anyone about seeing your tits tonight.”

“You’re a perverted wanker,” she said simply as she added the ginjy weed to the cauldron.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he drawled lazily. “Wanking can be quite enjoyable, especially when I’m now going to be thinking about you and those gorgeous tits. I’ll lie in my bed, close my eyes, and see myself coming all over them, dripping from your nipples and down your belly.”

Hermione stared at the cauldron, wondering if the heavy breathing was actually coming from her. How dare he say such disgusting things to her? And, God, how could she find those filthy words and that image he had painted so arousing? He had to be a seventh year because no sixth year could possibly be that confident about such things and speaking so blatantly.

“Oh, you _are_ a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he whispered softly and she heard the creek of wood beside her as he obviously sat on one of the tables. “Unbutton your blouse for me, pet. You know you want to be bad. Sometimes you really just have to break the rules.”

“Stop,” she said with far less force than she’d intended. Her hands shook as she added frimor oil to the potion and she began to stir.

“I shouldn’t want you as much as I do,” he confided. “I’ve got others that I could easily have, you know, but none of them interest me the way you do. I could care less about your blood when I’m thinking about fucking you, making you scream, feeling you come all over my cock. So innocent yet so fucking sexy that it makes me hard just watching you lick the tip of your quill in class. I wonder what it will feel like when you lick my cock.”

“Go away,” she told him, cringing when she heard the breathlessness in her voice. She didn’t even know who he was and he’d mentioned her blood, which meant he was a prejudiced git regardless of how sexy his voice was and how filthy he spoke.

“Show me your tits,” he commanded quietly. “Unbutton your pristine uniform shirt slowly, tease me because you know I’m desperate to see those gorgeous tits, and then take off your shirt and bra so I can see them. God, Granger, just do it. You’re aroused, I can tell, and it can just be between us. Show me what Weasley is too fucking stupid to see and take for himself.”

Hermione removed the spoon from her cauldron and set it to simmer. “I can’t,” she said softly. “I don’t even know who you are and I’m sure this is some cruel prank anyway.”

“Doesn’t it make it more fun when you _don’t_ know?” he asked. “It gives you the freedom to pretend you’re all alone, that this is nothing more than a naughty fantasy. This isn’t a prank, though it did begin because I was bored and noticed you sneaking through the hall. I’ve wanted to fuck you for awhile, pet, and really just want to see your tits right now so I can see if I was right about how fucking gorgeous they must be.”

“How can I know that I can even trust you?” Hermione was astonished to realize she was actually considering doing this. Not only that, but she was excited and aroused by his words.

“If I just wanted to prank you, I’d have hexed you and been done with it,” he said dryly. “I’d offer to let you tie me up but I plan to have my hands rather busy.”

She blushed at his blunt words, wondering again who on Earth would speak such a way to her. Ron cursed and usually got a thunk to the back of his head from her. Why, then, did she find these lewd words this boy spoke so arousing?

“If it helps your Gryffindor morality, I _dare_ you to show me your tits,” he taunted knowingly.

“If anyone _ever_ finds out about this, I’ll hex you with things that not even St. Mungos can cure,” she warned in a matter-of-fact tone that didn’t tremble once.

“You---you’re going to do it?” His voice was excited and he couldn’t conceal his surprise. “Fuck, Granger, you’re even dirtier than I imagined. I love it. I promise I won’t tell. I may be many things but I am not a liar nor do I break my promises. I don’t discuss my private life with anyone, especially not with anyone at this place. It will be our little secret. Now show me your tits.”

His condescending attitude towards their fellow classmates struck her as familiar. If she could just see him, she’d feel better and know he wasn’t just mucking about. However, he was right. She did find it surprisingly arousing that she couldn’t see him in the shadows save for a movement here and there.

“I’m not dirty,” she denied as she turned and scowled in his direction. She began to remove her tie. “I’ve never done anything like this before and I certainly shouldn’t be doing it now.”

“Innocent little slut,” he drawled in a voice that made her shudder.

Her fingers shook as she unbuttoned her shirt, her cheeks flushed in the soft glow of candlelight, and she bit her lower lip as she pulled her shirt from her skirt to finish unbuttoning it.

“Confidence, Granger. You’re not about to duel, you’re about to show me your tits. You know I’m desperate enough to see them that I’m acting like some foolish Hufflepuff so stop shaking and be the smug little swot that makes me want to bend you over my knee and spank your arse.”

He was a Slytherin. Her eyes widened as she realized that he had to be. No Ravenclaw would be that dirty and passionate and she’d have recognized any Gryffindor. His contempt for Hufflepuff ruled out that house, which meant she was undressing for a bloody Slytherin. He was too intelligent and witty to be Goyle or Crabbe, though she did know that Goyle was smarter than he acted. He hadn’t called her a Mudblood whore so that ruled out Malfoy. Besides, she thought Ron was probably more Malfoy’s type. That left two: Nott or Zabini.

“Granger,” he groaned as she stopped unbuttoning and simply stared at the shadows. “You’re a fucking tease.”

Zabini. It had to be Zabini. She’d studied with Nott a few times and he was soft spoken and polite. Zabini was a smug arse who walked around as if he had a dozen better places to be and as if everyone was beneath him. He didn’t discriminate between Muggleborns and others. He thought everyone wasn’t worth his time.

Oh God. She was undressing for Blaise bloody Zabini. He might be good-looking, dark skin and eyes that almost seemed golden one time when he’d been angry in class, but he was an arrogant prat who _knew_ he was handsome. Tall, slender, graceful---she heard that his mum was beautiful and could believe it if her son was any indication. He was a bit of a bastard and probably even haughtier and more proud than Malfoy.

And he had admitted, albeit reluctantly, that he wanted her.

The knowledge of who was lurking in the shadows gave her a bit more confidence. She considered stopping, knowing this was taking things way too far, but she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and finished unbuttoning her shirt. She wasn’t very good at this sort of thing and had no idea how to be sexy or what exactly to do beyond the basic specifics. She finally took off her shirt and heard a low hiss from the shadows.

“God, your tits are amazing,” he said smugly. “Just fucking perfect. Not too big and not small, just firm and they fucking bounce. I knew they’d bounce.”

Hermione unfastened the clasp of her bra and slowly pushed the straps down her arm, wondering if she could actually do this. His sharp intake of breath was all she needed. She let the bra fall away from her breasts and set it on top of her blouse. She knew she wasn’t very well endowed, Lavender had big breasts that Ron seemed to just love, but she didn’t mind too much. They were proportionate to her body and didn’t get in the way too much.

“Touch them,” he whispered as the table he was on shifted and she bit her lip when she heard the unmistakable sound of a zip being lowered.

“Say please,” she managed to say, trying to keep some resemblance of control.

“Please,” he growled.

“Like this?” she asked somewhat nervously as she reached up and cupped her breast. Her nipples were hard and her breasts felt heavy as she squeezed it gently.

“Harder,” he demanded. “Your nipples are hard, pet. Pull on one, twist it for me. I want to hear you whimper.”

She blinked at the shadows, able to see Zabini in her mind’s eye with his robe open and his trousers pushed down to reveal his bits. She brought her hand up to her mouth and slowly licked her finger before she rubbed her nipple. He seemed to like that trick, something she’d heard Angelina suggest to Katie years ago, and she moaned softly as she twisted her nipple.

“Are you wet?” he asked curiously. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet, Granger. Take your knickers off and toss them to me. I want to see how wet you are.”

“What do you say?”

“Please, Granger.”

Hermione reached beneath her school skirt and slowly slid her knickers off, hearing him curse as he realized she was going to do it. She stepped out of her knickers, feeling the damp cotton against her palm as she balled them up, her breasts swaying as she tossed them in the general direction of Zabini.

“Fuck, they’re soaked,” he told her. She heard him sniff and whimpered when she heard a slurping sound that could only be him licking her knickers. “You taste good, Granger. I want to see your cunt. Sit on the table and spread your legs for me. I want to see how wet you are.” He waited a heartbeat before he added, “Please.”

It was the please that did it. She felt sexy and desirable; her insecurity at Ron not finding her attractive and no boys ever flirting with her no longer mattered because there was one boy who wanted to see her, even if went about it in an unusual and very wicked way.

She sat on the end of the desk and got comfortable, smoothing her skirt primly despite being topless and knickerless. Her hair fell over her shoulders and caressed her bare breasts as she shifted. She had masturbated before, since she was fourteen and realized it was quite a nice release of tension from homework and studying. She’d never let anyone know she did this, of course, because good girls didn’t talk about such things and they certainly didn’t admit they did them.

After several moments of contemplation, she finally pulled her skirt up around her waist, blushing as Zabini saw her so intimately. She _was_ wet, even more than she’d been after watching all of the Weasley boys play an impromptu game of Quidditch without their shirts on the summer before last. She looked down and was able to see wetness glistening on the lips of her vagina, the candlelight almost illuminating her arousal.

“You have a lovely cunt, Granger,” he finally spoke up, his voice hoarse and not nearly so smug now, she noted with some satisfaction. “Touch yourself, let me see how you like to fuck yourself. I bet you wank all the time, don’t you? Hide in the library with your hand in your knickers, come with a soft cry as you’re surrounded by all those books you love so much. I should fuck you there, right on the table in the middle of the library with everyone watching, let them see what a dirty little slut you are.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that,” she scolded breathlessly as she gave in to the urge and moved her hand between her legs. Her head fell back and she moaned when she pressed a finger inside her. She was so wet that it slid in easily and her breath caught when she accidentally grazed her clit with her thumb.

“Spread your legs, pet. I want to see,” he urged huskily. “Can you hear me wanking? I’m so fucking hard, Granger. It’s taking all of my control not to get up, cross the room, and thrust my cock inside your tight cunt until you’re screaming. Luckily, I pride myself on my control, usually, so I won’t fuck you. This time.”

“I can hear,” she panted as she listened to the sound of skin rubbing skin, spreading her legs wider as she eased a second finger inside. She bit her lips to prevent herself from asking him to do that, to just slide inside her and fill her up and make her scream. She might want it, but she’d regret it in the morning and she didn’t intend to regret the loss of her virginity once it finally happened. This, though, she somehow knew she wouldn’t regret. She felt better than she had in weeks, and she liked knowing that Zabini desired her, that she aroused him enough to make him wank in the middle of a dark classroom.

“God. You’re so fucking uninhibited,” he murmured so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. His breathing was ragged and she wasn’t surprised when she heard a low grunt from him soon after she added the second finger. It was a few moments before he finally spoke again. “I just came all over your knickers, pet. Spilled all over them the way I’m going to come all over those gorgeous tits soon.”

Hermione moaned and laid back on the table, rolling her hips up to meet her hand as she squeezed her breast. “Wha---“ She was startled when she felt a hand on her wrist.

“Close your eyes and trust me,” he commanded as he moved her arms above her head, licking her breasts before he muttered, _”Constringo_.”

Her arms were suddenly bound above her head and she arched off the table when she felt his flaccid penis against her leg, throbbing and wet from his release. His mouth was all over her breasts, licking and sucking, his teeth nipping the plump flesh as a smooth palm moved down her belly. His fingers were long and she’d watched him cut potion ingredients before so she knew they were also elegant and graceful. They felt thick as two pressed against her wet lips and even more so when they pressed inside her.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled as he thrust his fingers inside her after each word. “You’re going to be mine, Granger. I decided that years ago and it’s finally time. You’re finally ready and willing, just waiting for me to take everything you offer while you take everything I give you like the selfish, dirty little slut we both know you really are.”

“Zabini,” she whined as his teeth bit her breast lightly and he spread her wider, adding a third finger inside her. She kept her eyes closed and just let go, riding his hand as her fingernails dug into her palm.

He stiffened when she said his name and then he laughed, low and husky, a sensual promise of things to come. “Always were too smart for your own good, Granger,” he muttered as he fucked her harder with his hand. His thumb pressed against her clit and rubbed firmly, sending her over the edge. “That’s it, pet. Come for me. Good girl.”

Hermione whimpered as she came, her body trembling beneath his as she just let go. He kept licking and sucking her breasts as she shuddered, biting down sharply on her shoulder and sucking hard enough that she knew he’d make a mark. She didn’t care, not right then. She felt too good, sated but still aching slightly for what she felt pressed against her leg, and she enjoyed the sensation of his clothes rubbing against her as he kept stroking her until she could barely move.

“ _Finite incantatem_ ,” he finally said, releasing her arms from the magical binding. He pulled his fingers out of her and laughed quietly. “You can open your eyes now, Granger.”

She hesitated, knowing that seeing him would make it all real, but finally did. He was sitting on the table beside her, his cock half-hard and not yet tucked back into his trousers. He was lazily licking his fingers and staring at her with eyes she could swear were golden in the candlelight.

“You’re just full of surprises,” he told her casually as he licked her come off his fingers. “I think I’ll enjoy finding out more of them.”

“Just because this happened once doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again, Zabini,” she told him somewhat primly as she stood up and pushed her skirt down to cover herself. She leaned over, deliberately letting her breasts bounce to test this new feminine power she seemed to possess, and picked up her shirt and bra from where he’d obviously knocked them to the ground.

“Who are you trying to convince, Granger?” he asked in a lazy drawl as he stood up. He smirked when her gaze moved to his bits and he languidly stroked himself before he tucked it back and fastened his trousers. He walked over to her, pinning her against the table. His finger was wet with his come as he traced her lips and he groaned when she opened her mouth and licked it, tasting salty bitter on her tongue. “It’s going to happen again, pet.”

“My potion is nearly finished,” she told him as she met his gaze and didn’t look away.

“It’s something for dreams, yes? Diatro root is often used in potions for sleep, dreams, and the subconscious,” he mused as his gaze looked at her lips.

“Perhaps,” she said vaguely, her tone somewhat bored even as it trembled with breathlessness. It really wasn’t fair that he was smart, too.

He kissed her then, fierce and rough, passionate and thorough. She didn’t expect it but soon kissed him back, letting him know she wasn’t likely to just sit submissively and give him control. She valued her control far too much.

When he pulled away, he took a shaky breath and then stepped away. “You shouldn’t be out so late past curfew, Granger,” he told her with a hint of amusement. “A prefect should know better than to break the rules.”

“Get to your dorm, Zabini, or I’ll be forced to take points,” she replied with a slight smirk as she put her shirt on and began to button it. “Besides, didn’t you know? Sometimes you just have to break the rules.”

Zabini smiled smugly as he picked up her wet knickers and put them in the pocket of his robe. “Sweet dreams, Granger,” he said with a wink as he walked to the door.

“Zabini,” she called out as she took the cauldron off the burner and finished her potion. He turned to look at her, arching a dark brow in a bored manner that was definitely familiar.

“Yes, Granger?” he drawled as he smoothed out his robe.

She smiled as she looked back at her potion, speaking casually so he’d not become even more of an arrogant arse, already looking forward to her next patrol and seeing what else Blaise Zabini had thought about seeing her do. “I have patrol again Thursday. Do try to avoid the fourth floor and especially the former Charms classroom after curfew. I tend to use it after patrol for a bit of privacy.”  



End file.
